And One Day, When We're Grown Up
by wynnie the pooh
Summary: Kurt is thinking about the future, and all Blaine wants is for him to stop worrying and eat some damn ice-cream. Future!Klaine


_**Wow, this happened really quickly! It's been in the works for a week or so, but once I sat down, it just kind of finished itself! I hope you all like this, especially the way I've written Kurt's perspective. I don't think it's that great, and I normally avoid writing Kurt's POV because even though I'm a girl, I somehow understand Blaine better than I understand Kurt, so its easier. But this just screamed Kurt!POV to me, so I rolled with it, and this is the result! I hope you like it!**_

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><p><em><strong>And One Day, When We're Grown Up<strong>_

_I always thought that one day, when I grew up, I could do so many things that you just can't do when you're a kid._

_I thought I'd be able to drive a car, get a job, fall in love._

_And then I learnt that some things just aren't possible, even when you are grown up._

_I can't marry the guy I love, I can't adopt a kid, I can't-_

_I just can't. And it kills me._

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><p>Blaine's watching me out of the corner of his eye, I can tell. There's some kind of vibe I get when he does that, like something's crawling up my spine, but in a good way.<p>

I'm attempting to finish my midterm paper, but it's staring me in the face and my pen won't even spell out the few words I can manage to think of. And I know that Blaine is right there behind me and it isn't helping. He's holding his breath so I won't know he's there, but I know. I _always _know. I always have.

'Blaine, what do you want?'

'Damn,' he breaths as I turn around, but he's smiling that gorgeous smile that I love waking up to in the mornings. 'How can I never manage to surprise you?'

'Because you're totally predictable, Blaine.'

He takes the final step to stand behind my chair and rests his hands on my shoulders. They're warm and gentle, and his thumbs run soothing patterns across my skin.

'I don't know if that's a good thing, Kurt,' he says, but his hands are sliding down my arms to link his fingers into mine. I like this, the warmth and gentle pressure that he leaves against my skin. It's familiar and perfect, and he tugs me towards him, pulling me from my chair. 'Come on, you've been working since dinner. Let me get you something for dessert.'

I nod reluctantly and he places my hands on his waist as he guides me towards the kitchen, bopping to the beat of a song that's only in his head. It makes the corners of my lips curl up, and I lean my head against his back as he pulls a tub of ice cream from the freezer and starts scooping it into two bowls.

'Strawberry or caramel?' he asks me, and I groan, squeezing my fingers into the flesh of his hips.

'No chocolate?'

'No, you finished all of it last night, remember?'

I do remember, but it doesn't help the situation. 'Mm.'

'So caramel?' I nod reluctantly, and he pours the topping over the ice cream, handing me the bowl and a spoon from the drawer. He grabs his own dessert and snakes his free hand around my waist, leaning his head against my shoulder.

'What's stressing you out so much?' he asks me as we flop down onto the couch. He curls his legs up beneath him and leans against my shoulder as he takes a spoonful of his ice cream.

'Nothing,' I say.

'Bullshit,' he replies. It's always like this between us. He knows when I'm lying, and I just want to forget that I'm worried, so I brush it aside. I know it's the answer, and so does Blaine, so he puts down his bowl and twists around in his seat so he's facing me.

'Come on, Kurt, you know I'm not going to fall for that. What's wrong?'

'Just my midterm,' I say, and it's mostly the truth. Except for the _just _bit.

His fingers find my thigh and curl into the flesh, raising goosebumps. He knows I can't resist when he does this, and I sigh, biting my lip and glancing at him. 'Tell me,' he breaths.

'It really is nothing, Blaine. There's just so much pressure from my professors to have this paper finished, and even though they never mention it at all, I can still see the expectation there. I have to write it, and I have to make it good, or I won't pass.'

'Sure,' he whispers to me, and it wasn't really what I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear that it didn't matter if I didn't hand in my midterm, I was still going to ace the class. I wanted to hear that it didn't matter if it was horrible, that my worst was still damn good. That it didn't matter that I was worrying, because it would always be in on time and it would always be amazing, and I was just panicking for no reason.

But instead, he wraps his arm around my waist and lets me lean against him. 'But it doesn't matter if you fail. Because I sure as hell ain't gonna kick you out, and I'm gonna love you no matter what.'

'I love you too, Blaine,' I whisper, and smother myself in ice cream. His bowl lays beside his knee, forgotten, and he presses his lips to my temple and to the edge of my jaw, over and over again in sweet, chaste kisses. His fingers knead the skin of my thigh, and his lips are curling up at the corners in a smile that I can see out of the corner of my eye.

'Okay,' he whispers into my ear. 'That ice cream is getting in the way.' He reaches out a hand and takes my bowl, placing it on the side table and moving his out of the way to join it. His breath is hot against my cheek and there's something about the way his fingers move unstoppingly against my skin that gives me the feeling he's trying to make me forget.

'Stop,' I breathe and pull his fingers away gently. 'I don't like this, when you try and cheer me up with sexual advances. It makes me feel like I need you or something.' I grin, just to let him know I'm joking and twist his fingers through mine. 'I'm just not in the mood, okay.'

He nods solemnly and hands me back my ice cream, leaning away and finding the TV remote to switch it on to some meaningless informercial.

'You're mad,' I say. He only bites his cheek and stares dead straight ahead, shoveling a spoonful of half melted ice cream into his mouth. 'Blaine, your mad, and I didn't mean to make you mad, I promise. I'm just tired and irritable.' And it felt like a weight that was lifting off my shoulders now that I'd said it out loud. It wasn't about the paper. It never had been.

I bite my lip nervously, taking Blaine's bowl from his and placing it beside me. 'And there's something else.'

He turns to face me and there's a small fire of hope there, and I worry that maybe his infomercial routine was just that, a routine, and I've fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

'What?' he asks.

I take a deep breath and begin.

'I'm frustrated,' I say, 'that whatever happens between us seems to be stuck at this boyfriend stage. The government says we can't get married, we're destined to be forever ostracized in public, and our chances of adopting are a lot lower than the chances of a god actually existing. Which is pretty low.'

He almost cracks a smile at that, but I know my speech has gotten to him because his eyes soften and he reaches out a hand to curl into mine. 'I know,' he whispers.

'And I see all the girls in my glass falling for guys and talking about how they're expecting a proposal soon, and then they'll get married, all before they've even finished college so long as he's the _one. _And the thing that shits me is I know I've found him.' I smile and Blaine's answering one blossoms under my gaze. 'But even though I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Blaine, I know that we can't get married and-'

I'm stopped by his lips crashing against mine and I respond in kind, pulling his bottom lip gently between my teeth and running my tongue against it. I can feel his moan and his hands run to my hips, tugging at my belt loops to pull me closer. I shuffle towards him and when I feel his thigh flush against mine I stop, pulling away from him.

'What was that for?' I ask.

'For making my plans look like gumbo.' I almost laugh at the use of his word "gumbo", but I'm more concerned about the meaning behind that sentence, and I run it over in my head again. Still, nothing positive came up.

'What do you mean?' I ask him, and biting his lip, he sticks a hand into his pocket and pulls out a box. It's small and wrapped in an oversized gold bow that makes the laughter catch at the back of my throat and the blush is coming to his cheeks.

'See?' he asks, holding up the box. 'How am I supposed to do this when you've just made your speech?'

'I don't know,' I breathe, barely loud enough to be heard. I'm staring at the box. 'Please don't tell me you bought something flashy. You can't afford it.'

'_We _can't afford it,' he corrects softly. 'I know. So this is a little more sentimental instead.' He shoots me a grin. 'The bow is supposed to compensate for the tackiness of it all.'

I raise an eyebrow, but take the box gently when he pushes it towards me. With shaking hands I pull open the bow and it falls against my lap. I pause, but he's watching me with those pensive, watching eyes.

'I didn't expect this,' I say in a hope to stall.

'So it worked? I managed to surprise you?'

I nod and he grins, pulling his legs up beneath him and crossing his hands like he's always done when he's happy, ever since we first met, when I was just seventeen and he was almost a half year away from eighteen. Now, four years later, I don't think he's changed one bit. And I don't love him any less.

'Open it,' he breathes.

I pull the lid off the box, and inside it I can see the glint of the curve of metal. It's silver, a simple band, and I'm glad they he didn't try and find something over the top expensive. I don't know if I could have worn it without blushing anyway.

'Put it on,' he says.

'No, you do it.' I hold the box out for him and he takes the ring gently, pulling my left hand towards him. He holds the ring aloft, biting his lip.

'Say yes,' he says, weighing me up, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I want to say yes, I desperately do, but how are you supposed to say that when your boyfriend is sitting opposite you, holding a ring and demanding that you say it.

He must sense my hesitation, because he quickly says, 'I mean, you don't have to, but I thought you wanted to, especially because of what you said. I mean, I can't imagine my life without you either.'

I look into Blaine's eyes and with a slow breath I breathe, 'Yes.'

And it's like a floodgate has been broken, because my tiredness is truly starting to show and I'm crying; both tears of joy and tears of pain because I have no idea how many years it will be until this... engagement?... can be made a reality. But for now, all I know is that Blaine is slipping the ring onto my finger and as I run my thumb along the silver, I can feel words etched into it. I spin it around to look at them.

_You were only waiting... _it says. 'My God,' I breathe. I don't think I can say another word, and he slowly pulls from his other pocket the matching ring.

_... for this moment to arise._

'Hell, Kurt,' Blaine says. 'I want to marry you. If you'll have me, and the government will allow it.'

Sniffing slightly, I grin. 'Hell, Blaine, I want to marry you too.' I spin the ring on my finger again, feeling its strange weight that is somehow perfect resting there.

His left hand rises to cup my cheek, and even though we're facing each other with our legs crossed, he leans the final foot between us and catches his upper lip in mine, like he always does when he's trying to feel taller. My tongue runs the length of his bottom lip and I can feel the cold of his ring on my cheek and its sting is almost bittersweet, but incredibly amazing at the same time.

'You forgot all about the ice cream,' I say, pulling away to draw in a deep breath.

'Oh, the ice cream,' Blaine laughs. 'That was only a distractor.' And he reaches for my hand again, twining our fingers together and leaning in to kiss me.

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><p><em>I always thought that one day, when I grew up, I could do so many things that you just can't do when you're a kid.<em>

_I thought I'd be able to drive a car, get a job, fall in love._

_And even though I know some things are hard to achieve, I can't stop hoping that maybe, people's opinions will change and one day, even if we're seventy, Blaine and I will get married, and it will be the best day of our lives._

**Ahh :D And we're done! I hope you liked this as much as I liked writing it. I've never done a real future fic before, but this kind of spoke to me :D I hope I actually made it clear that it was set in the future... That may have been a bit ambiguous for a while there! Sorry!**

**I love all of you who take the time out to read these silly little fluffs, and especially to those who take the extra time to leave a review! You are all amazing!**

**xxx Wynnie**


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